Azure Sky
by Njoldara
Summary: Sapphira Azurebreeze, daughter of infamous Connordia Dawnhallow, is one of the most talented frost magi that Azeroth has to offer. However, these talents can attract the attention of people one would want to avoid. *Some parts are not lore friendly but I don't care* COMPLETED : PART OF A PLANNED SERIES
1. Beginnings

Before

She always dreamt of that night, the very first memories she had. It was a ghost that followed and haunted her, made of crackling flames and onyx smoke. It left in the day, only to return in the night. When her head hit her pillow after a hard day's work, it came flying back and embraced her. Always.

 _Tangerine hair and fel blood-coloured eyes, that's what she always remembered most. Her mother's distinguishing Sin'dorei globes of emerald and her regal, elegant face. That face was merely a mask, used to cover the madness and unspoken whispers beneath. She didn't want to remember the madness, the slaughter, the smell of burning flesh and the screams of those being incinerated alive. But she always did, always saw what her mother had done._

 _It had been a normal night in Dalaran as always, mages discussing research and new spells they had written. That normalcy was shattered in a moment's notice, when the first human fell dead, face charred black. It was shattered by Connordia's manic laughter and will to obey unseen masters. And then another mage, and another, and another... They fell one by one, flames from their bodies spreading to various buildings, painting an orange hue across the city. Each mage that couldn't run fast enough was caught in the inferno, dying a most painful death._

 _She remembered hiding from Connordia in the Violet Hold with civilians, too young to understand what was happening and why battalions of battle-mages were being sent out into the streets. She hated the way the others glared at her, as though her mother's lust for power and her succumbing to the lure of the old gods' promises were her fault._

 _"I want her alive,", Jaina had said, "a simple spell to the heart is too good for her." Lady Proudmoore had looked with unparalleled disgust at Connordia Dawnhallow when she was finally detained and in irons. Argent Crusaders kept a close eye on her as she was dragged into the lower reaches of the Violet Hold, to be executed. Yet neither the paladins nor the mages saw the small shadow with orchid eyes and raven wing hair follow them._

 _The red headed elf was forced to the floor on her knees, with both arms bound in chains at her sides. Her head was forced into the cold cobblestone by an armored foot as she looked up at the Kirin Tor mage above her. "Whatever you have to say, you best say it now.", Jaina had hissed down at her, hatred not disguised in the least. Connordia did not reply, only spitting in an Argent Crusader's face and smirking. And then, a great sword came down, and her head rolled across the floor, all witnessed by the small shadow. Then, the choking cries and the horror at the cruel smirk permanently etched into her mother's face._

Sapphira awoke from the reoccurring nightmare to a loud pounding on her front door and a baritone voice calling her name quite frantically. Suddenly, the screech of metal and the splintering of wood. The lithe woman jumped from her bed and ran out into the foyer, only to see her assistant standing amongst what looked like the remains of her front door. "My lady, are you alright?", he said worriedly, his voice wavering from having smashed himself into her home. "Thalarion, for the love of the Light, just because I don't answer immediately does not mean I am dead or dying!", she squalled at the tall, crimson haired Sin'Dorei.

"This is the third time this month!", she continued, her violet eyes flashing with anger. Thalarion did not reply, only bowing his head in embarassment. Only then did Sapphira realize she was still in her nightclothes, and she quickly attempted to cover herself. "Get out, now!", she hissed before heading back towards her bedroom.

For once, Thalarion obeyed and left quickly as soon as his mistress's back was turned. When he returned to the streets of Dalaran, he snickered softly to himself. As bad as he felt over breaking down her door for the third time in a month, he always found it funny to watch Sapphira fly into a rage. She was normally just so...cold and intimidating. She was odd looking for a blood elf, with her raven hair and royal purple eyes. They stood out so much against her alabaster skin and high cheekbones. When she was in her full navy blue, Kirin Tor purple, and midnight black robes and cloaks, she seemed more dark and cold than she did in a white night dress. She walked with a queenly sort of grace, and her robes billowed behind her, she always looked truly impressive. Her hair was always pulled into a tight bun, she seemed so uncharacteristic with it loose and hanging down. But then again, he had woken her up with his frantic breaking and entering.

Sapphira did not know why the Kirin Tor and the Argent Crusade ever thought it a good idea to put her and Thalarion Sunstrike together as a team. She had a reputation for being one of the most talented frost magi in existence, and it was known that Thalarion did not have an affinity for magic. Although, his prowess in melee combat far surpassed any other paladins thus known. Thalarion was tall and burly, extremely musceled with wide shoulders and deep crimson hair, always pulled into a high Kal'dorei tail. He wore traditional blood knight armor, everything carved to look like a phoenix's wings.

It fit him extremely well, as he had the grace of Al'ar on the battlefield. He handled a great sword like an extension of his arms. His long, scarlet locks often flew behind him, creating a red halo of sorts around him.

Sapphira returned from her thoughts about Thalarion and started pulling herself together for the day, putting her hair up in its tight bun and donning her robes and staff. She'd fix her door some other time. She had more important priorities right now.


	2. Blighted Wyrm

After pulling herself together after a frankly, quite an unenjoyable morning, Sapphira strode up to her assistant, who was standing under a nearby lamp post. She curtly tapped on his shoulder with a long, black gloved finger. He turned around suddenly and reached for his greatsword, as though he were being attacked. "...whuh?", he said, dazed, after realizing there was no threat. "Someone out to get you?", she murmured sarcastically.

"No, my lady. I was distracted, that's all.", he explained, seeming rather embarrassed. "You can't be distracted, not where we're going today. Compose yourself, now.", she ordered, conjuring up an aqua-coloured tome. "Where would that be, exactly?", he questioned, tightening his hair into a high Kal'dorei tail.

"I would've told you earlier, had we not wasted time with you barging into my home unannounced and catching me in my nightclothes.", she spoke icily, glaring up at the taller elf. Thalarion did not reply, only hiding his face sheepishly. "Anyway", she continued, "We're due to go to the Dragonblight today. The Archmage wants us to find out all we can on the reanimated frost wyrms." The red-headed elf's eyes widened.

Frost wyrms. Now that there, that was a challenge. Blue dragons were an incredible pain to deal with, as he had witnessed on a trip to the Borean Tundra. He heard stories of the great bone wyrms from comrades who had been deployed into Icecrown, and honestly, they sounded terrifying. He wouldn't let Sapphira know that, though. She thought so little of him to begin with, or at least her mannerisms caused him to believe she did.

Thalarion didn't know what to think of Lady Azurebreeze. He knew she was bitter, broken down, and cold after years of punishment for her mother's crimes, metaphorically of course. He knew she had built up walls of iron and steel after all the pain. Supposedly, it was impossible to get close to the woman. People often said that she had no heart, only a dedication to her position as a Kirin Tor mage. He had a strange sense of protectiveness over the fragile looking elf, although she kept him at a far distance, like all others. He knew, like everyone else, that she had been born out of wedlock between Connordia Dawnhallow and Ambassador Kalvoryn Azurebreeze. She had inherited her mother's temper, which was very short and explosive, and the recessive trait of the Azurebreeze line, orchid eyes.

Sapphira was widely disliked, to the point of being shunned, both by the general public and the Kirin Tor. She was disliked mostly for her mother's acts, but also for her tendency to get violent and lash out when angered. Thankfully, she was not strong physically, and her attacks did not hurt very often. Her magical prowess came from her mother's side, as House Dawnhallow had always been filled with renowned spellcasters. Sadly, House Dawnhallow had ended with Connordia's demise.

The paladin was snapped out of his thoughts when a sharp jab came from Sapphira. "Are you even listening? Did you hear even a single word I just said?", she growled. He didn't reply, only shaking his head in the universal "no" gesture. The raven haired woman let out a loud sigh of exasperation. "Just meet me at the landing in the front of the city in fifteen minutes. Make sure you're dressed warmly and are adequately armed.", she spoke tersely, marching off towards the landing, muttering nonsense.

About an hour later, the two elves found themselves in the icy graveyard known as the Dragonblight. Sapphira had donned a thick black cloak and hood that hid her entire face. Thalarion merely had put on a heavier mantle and a crimson and gold bordered hood. The ice mage took the front, marching through the thick snow with her paladin following close behind.

Thalarion gaped at the massive bones surrounding them. He hadn't ever dreamed that dragons of such size could exist. Sapphira busied herself with cracking one of the gigantic rib bones around them, and grinding the marrow into a dust, before putting it into a dark pouch. The paladin looked up to the sky, feeling the cold wind biting at his jaw. "My lady, with all due respect, today might not have been the greatest day to venture out into this wasteland.", he mused, turning towards his counterpart,

"And why would that be?", she replied, not looking up from the bones. "Those clouds do not look friendly. Don't you worry that we'll be caught in a blizzard?", his face turning grim at the thought of such a horrible death. "We're not out here to worry. We're out here to research.", she said matter of factly. He groaned, "Yes, I know that, but its pretty hard to research when there isn't a damned thing around except for dragon skeletons and the possibility of a blizzard!". He gestured around him, throwing his hands up in the air.

And just like that, it felt like an earthquake. Something massive had crashed to the ground, and it smelled of decaying flesh and salty ice. Both he and Sapphira had been knocked to the snowy floor, but only had flipped around to see what had caused the disturbance. He really wished he hadn't, as soon as he did though.

It was gargantuan, and was alight with the characteristic glow of Scourge magic. It had teeth and claws that were the size of his greatsword, and great wings that could sweep him off of his feet in one go. Stories of the frost wyrms didn't even compare to seeing the real thing. Thalarion immediately threw himself into a standing position, before drawing his weapon and charging at the undead dragon's foot.

When he saw the spikes of ice come firing from behind him, he knew Sapphira had righted herself and was ready for combat. The drake clawed at him, but he managed to block its strikes with his sword. It let out a terrifying howl when he saw that Sapphira had managed to send a bolt of ice straight into the thing's eye socket, and then another into its neck. The paladin saw a chance to finish it off, and took it. He grabbed on to the things arm and hurled himself up to its neck, and with a final swing, dismembered its skull from the rest of its body.

The rotting dragon fell dead, and Thalarion crawled off of it, falling backwards into snow in the process. He looked to his right and saw Sapphira make a beeline for the massive skull, producing small picks and apothecary bottles. He made no effort to get up, only laying back into the cold and putting his hands over his face. They smelled of the frost wyrm.

"..truly amazing...they'll be so pleased...", the holy knight heard his mistress muttering. He peeked through his fingers and saw that the tiny elf had moved on to the body, taking webbing from the wings and shards of claw. "What're you doing down there? Get up.", she questioned harshly, extending a hand towards him.

Wait a moment. Sapphira Azurebreeze, willingly making physical contact with another living being? That can't be right. He sat there with a dumbfounded expression, rather than taking her hand and getting up. "Are you going to sit there like an idiot or are you going to accept my help?", she growled. "Ah.., um, Yes, my lady...", he stuttered, finally taking the dainty hand and heaving himself up off the ground.


	3. A Friend

Even after Sapphira had turned her back on him and busied herself with some sort of thing he wouldn't bother to understand, Thalarion stood in awe that she had willingly extended her hand to him. He had not once ever seen her try to make physical contact nor did she ever react well when someone tried to make it with her. He was lost in his thoughts and did not notice when the first bout of snow began to fall and the wind began to pick up.

It took his face beginning to go numb for him to snap back into reality. The snow had started to come down in great heaps and he was having trouble making out anything even just a few feet in front of him. He could no longer see the small lady who had been present by a skeletal drake's remains.

"My lady!", he called out, traipsing forward into the thick snow. His scarlet hair was blowing in his face and got caught in his mouth a few times. "Thalarion!", came the returning call of a lilting voice, somewhere on his left. He heard the crunch of foot steps in the thick snow and soon felt a small form bang into his side, immediately backing away as soon as it had felt his armor. "My lady, is that you?", he yelled, putting his hand on the significantly lower shoulder.

"Yes, you don't have to scream!", Sapphira shouted back, worming away from his hand. "We need to find shelter or we're going to die out here.", she continued, pulling her hood farther around her face. The paladin could only see a shadow standing in front him, with a cloak whipping around in the strong wind.

"I thought I saw a cave entrance over there, when I could actually see!", he said, motioning in a nondescript direction. "Then move, lead on. I'll be right behind you!", she replied. He grabbed her thin forearm despite her cries of protest and tugged her along through the relentless blizzard. The two kept trudging through the ice and snow, staying alive purely from the warmth of being near each other. Several times Sapphira fell over and Thalarion had to drag her back up on her feet.

What felt like years later, they finally came to what seemed like an entrance underground. Thalarion pushed his mistress forward into the cave first. She didn't hesitate to run in immediately out of the bone aching cold. He followed, and as soon as he was out of the frost, he collapsed on his knees, face on the ground.

The Sin'dorei awoke to a sharp poking at his shoulder from a narrow, bony finger. He tried to say something but only came up with a groan. The poking turned into a shaking, and Sapphira hissing "Get up, you lug!". After he finally managed to peel his face off the sleek, almost glasslike ground, his eyes widened at his surroundings.

The walls looked like a transparent ice, with streaks of orchid, aqua, and blue dancing behind them. Around the ceiling and floor were chunks of what mimicked Saronite, only with veins of Scourge-blue aglow in them. It was ethereal and beautiful, unlike anything either Sapphira or Thalarion had ever seen. There was strange singing in the air, like what one would hear if they were near one of the great trees present in Crystalsong Forest.

The frost mage was the first to get up on her feet, gazing in wonder at their unnaturally beautiful shelter. She put her hands and an ear to the wall, listening closer for the singing. The paladin followed, wandering around the room with eyes like saucers. "What do you think this is?", he mused aloud, scraping a finger along the Saronite-like ore. "I haven't any idea. ", she replied, turning in his direction. "Take some samples of that ore.", she ordered, tossing him an array of tools and bottles.

"I don't mean to sound ignorant, but I don't know how to do that.", he said, analyzing the supplies with great confusion. "Allow me to show you, then. Maybe then, you can provide more than protection.", she said, striding over and kneeling next to him.

He flopped down on the ground, watching as Sapphira organized the tools in a particular order. After a lengthy explanation of what each hammer or pick was for, and what you were meant to put in the different bottles, she handed him some of the supplies. "Now, since this is ore, and appears to be Saronite, which is a fairly hard mineral, which hammer and bottle would we use?", she questioned. He raised up a hammer with a bladed back and a rounded flask. "Correct. Now take some samples.", she motioned toward the rock.

With Thalarion's attention directed at plinking at the lump of ore, Sapphira took a moment to speak. "I wanted to thank you for getting us out of that blizzard. You were right about how I should've payed more attention to the weather.", she bowed her head in mock-shame. The burly elf froze and turned to look at her. She cocked her head up to look at him, violet eyes bright against alabaster skin. "It was my duty. You are my partner, yes?", he tried not to stutter, looking back at the Saronite.

"I suppose so. It was the first time you were useful.", she spoke. Thalarion felt some anger boil up before hearing what she said next. "That was joke, I promise.", she giggled a little bit. "You don't do humor much, do you?", he chortled a bit, putting a cork on the now Saronite filled flask.

"Noticed that, did you?", she fell back on her posterior, switching so that her legs were in front of her. She seemed to be relaxing a bit, not holding her normally intimidating presence. "Well...you don't really talk much unless you're giving orders or calling me some variation of the word 'idiot'.", he sniggered some more.

He handed her the flask and hammers, which she observed a bit before packing them away in a dark leather satchel. "You deserve that most of the time.", she giggled some more, "Certainly with the whole breaking down my door on a regular basis thing." He blushed and turned his head away, his crimson locks falling over his chiseled jaw.

"Which brings up the question, why is it exactly that you do that?", she continued. "To purposely put a kink in your morning?", he snorted from laughing. "Honestly though!", she tensed up.

"You said it yourself. I am your partner, my job is to provide protection for you.", he explained, pointing to the sword strapped to his back. "Protection does not mean destroying my property, Thalarion.", she made a mock-glare at him.

He couldn't help but burst into a fit of guffaws at the glare she gave him. "Oh, for the love of the Light, what did I do wrong?", she scowled. "Stop that!", she growled, slapping his calf. When he had finally gotten the laughter out of his system, and Sapphira was thoroughly irritated, he tried speaking again. "My lady, you do not answer when I call out to you in the mornings. I hear no signs of life from you. I break down your door because there are signs that you are dead or dying. Nothing more.", he coughed out, voice raspy from his fit.

She was boring a hole into his eyes. Those violet orbs she possessed seemed to see straight into his soul. After this had gone on for a lengthy period of time, she spoke. "I'll try to do that less then.", she said softly. She looked out near the entrance where the two of them had fallen in from the horrid blizzard. "The weather doesn't show any signs of letting up soon. I think we're due to be here for a long while.", she mused.

"Sapphira...do you mind if I call you that right now?", he questioned, his voice tinted with worry. Her gaze snapped back to him, eyes a bit widened at the sound of her name. "I suppose not.", she answered. "Why do you seem uncomfortable all of a sudden?", he prodded.

"You should know."

"I don't believe I do."

"Who's the last person that was ever partnered with me?"

"...I don't know."

"Exactly! Because there hasn't been one before you!"

"What does this have to do with you seeming out of sorts?"

"My word, for a paladin, you really are quite daft."

"You're changing the subject, Sapphira."

She took in a deep breath before speaking again.

"I don't eve know why I'm telling you this, but... I haven't heard another person speak my name since my mother was alive."

"That was years ago. Surely someone had spoke your name in that time since she..."

"Was executed?"

"Uh... yes, that."

"Don't dance around it, I'm not made of glass."

"I'll take note of that."

"As I was saying, before you interrupted my train of thought, you are the first person to say my name aloud in sixteen years."

"I suppose I could see why you would be a bit uncomfortable then...", Thalarion said, reclining back on the singing crystal wall. "So you had no friends? No one to ever speak your name?", he questioned further.

"Do I look like the sort to have friends?"

"Would you be offended if I answered truthfully?"

"Not at all."

"Then, no, you don't."

"My point proven then."

"If I'm not being bold, my lady", he said slowly, skirting around the chance of offending Sapphira,"I consider you a friend."

She had been eyeing a certain streak of colour moving throughout the walls, but her attention was snapped fully back to Thalarion.


	4. Thoughts

"...you consider **me** , a friend?", she sounded out the words as though she had just learned them. "Yes.", was Thalarion's simple reply. "You have poor choice in accomplices then.", she said haughtily, turning her elegant face away from him. "Why would you be a poor choice?", he asked, reaching over and grabbing her thin jaw, forcing her to look at him. He immediately regretted making the advance when a sharp slap came across his cheek and chin, near the scarlet goatee he wore. "Don't. **Ever.** Touch. My. Face.", she hissed, on her feet and with a fire burning in her eyes.

Thalarion had forgotten that Sapphira was not used to touch after they had been talking so long and she had grown relaxed in his presence. He should've guessed that the action he had just performed would've provoked some sort of violent response. She had tolerated him saying her name, but only tolerated, not enjoyed. He wanted her to hit him again, to remind him that Sapphira could not be handled the way other people were. Hell, he wanted to hit himself. Light knows that Sapphira was going to hold this against him for ages.

He stood up and raised his hands in a surrendering gesture, bowing his head away from her burning gaze. "Please forgive me, I don't know what came over me.",he pleaded, sincerely hoping that she _would_ forgive him, although he knew that the chances were slim. He could hear her shuddering breath before she said very tentatively, "You are forgiven."

Had he heard her correctly? She was truly going to forgive him for a most terrible blunder on his part? The paladin looked up, directing his lime-green eyes to meet her orchid ones. "Did I hear you correctly?", he said with great confusion, and he could feel a warmth building in his chest. "I said that you are forgiven. Now, lets forget the entire debacle, please?", her voice was starting to fall back into it's usual tone.

He nodded, and she slid down the wall back to floor with her legs in front of her, robe pooling around the sides of her calves. He sat back down as well, sitting cross legged with his back against the ice-like walls. They sat in silence for an hour, before Thalarion went to speak, only to realize the smaller elf had fallen asleep in the quietness. Her head had fallen against her shoulder, her breath slow and steady. He noticed that in the tranquility of sleep, all the bitterness and seemingly constant anger fell away from her like like a feather from a bird. He had only a short time to look upon the sight though, before sleep overtook him and wrapped him in a numb, blissful embrace.

He awoke to the sound of Sapphira cursing and the pages of a book being flipped quite loudly. Then, the crack of a book being heaved to the ground. Thalarion leapt to his feet and raced over to the corner where the magi had stationed herself. She didn't notice the knight until she had given the tome a good, hard kick, sending it gliding across the cave. "What's all this?", he questioned with concern, motioning to the book across the room. "I never was good at portal spells.", she spat, glaring at the spellbook.

"Trying to summon a portal to Dalaran, then?", he concluded. He was still a bit concerned since he had never seen Sapphira show such frustration. "That was the idea. All I've gotten is _that_ , however.", she growled, pointing to a small pile of teal ashes on the ground. Rather than try to calm Sapphira down, Thalarion ventured over to the entrance of the cave, poking his head outside. He was met by bright sunlight and clear sky. "There's no need for a portal, look outdoors.", he waved her over and pointed.

The angry mage didn't respond, only grabbing the spell tome, putting her hood back up, and venturing back into the Dragonblight.

It had taken several hours, but the pair had marched across the icy wasteland and managed to bring themselves back to Dalaran. As soon as they had gotten themselves back on the landing at the front of the city, Sapphira turned to him. "Go take care of yourself and meet me by the Sunreavers' headquarters in about three hours, I'll handle turning in these samples.", she ordered. "As you say, my lady.", he replied, giving her a quick salute before heading towards the inn he had taken a permanent residence at.

It was on this day that Thalarion was truly grateful that the inn had these things called "showers" rather than baths. As soon as he had stepped into the bathroom that his room had, he stripped of his armor and stepped into the enclosed area where the water nozzle was. He sighed as he felt the warm water cascading down his back and chest, raising his hands to take his hair out of its characteristic tail.

His thoughts drifted to Sapphira and the events that had passed in recent time as he put his head beneath the stream of water. She had confided in him, allowed him to touch her on one occasion, slapped him, taught him, forgiven him, and generally loosened up in his presence. He hadn't really had time to process it all, even during the tiring trek back from the Dragonblight. What captured his attention most, however, was the warm feeling he had had in his chest when he looked upon her sleeping form or when she had gazed directly into his eyes.

Thalarion had had romantic relationships before, of course. He was known for good looks and muscle in Silvermoon, but that's all that women ever really found in him. He had eventually grown bored with the general shallowness of all his previous romantic endeavors, and just grown blind to female attention. Not once had his heart ever sped up just from another looking into his eyes nor did a warm feeling pool in his chest when he saw a woman deep in tranquil slumber. Not until his imprisonment with Sapphira.

He knew what these various "feelings" meant. His fellow Argent Crusaders loved to tell of how their lovers felt those "feelings" when they were around them, and vice versa. He hated that he was starting to have these thoughts and "feelings" for Sapphira. Not that he thought of her badly, not in the slightest. To him, Sapphira was an enigma. She possessed such beauty, and ignored it. She had a brilliant mind, but only used it to carry out orders given by those who thought themselves superior to her. She had great magical power, but only focused on what she failed in magically.

Sure, her tongue was sharp like a sword, and she was cold, unfeeling to the rest of the world. He realized she was flawed, but he thought her to be flawed in the most perfect way.

He knew that these thoughts were only going to grow, and that they would certainly never be reciprocated. He could never be able to act on these emotions and thoughts, knowing that Sapphira would react with more than just a slap. But, if he had to keep his emotions and desires to himself to keep from making their partnership implode, and never seeing her again, he would do it.

Sapphira had stood and watched Thalarion make a beeline to the inn he stayed at before heading towards the Violet Hold. Nothing eventful happened when she handed off her samples from the Dragonblight. There was the usual glare of contempt from Jaina, who watched disdainfully as she gave the various pouches and bottles to a gnome alchemist. Jaina had listened closer when Sapphira had handed over the Saronite samples, explaining where she and Thalarion had found them and why they had taken them. After a simple salute and a curt nod from Rhonin, Sapphira left, making her way towards her home.

Sapphira gladly noted that her door had been repaired, before entering her home, looking forward to a shower. She entered the bathroom and peeled her robes, cloaks, and hood off of herself, before stepping into the shower and turning the cleansing water on. It took some doing, but she got her hair out of its bun, letting it fall against her thin shoulders.

As she washed herself, her thoughts went to Thalarion. The paladin had behaved almost _affectionately_ when they were trapped in that cave. She recalled the feeling of his strong hand on her jaw and her shoulder. Oddly enough, she had enjoyed it for a moment before snapping and slapping him. Also oddly, she had opened up to him. She had never had what anyone could call a friend, not once. But hearing him say her name, and confess that he thought of her as a friend... She wanted to be disgusted, both with him and herself.

She had always hated sentimentality and the concept of romantic love. That is not to say that she hadn't read at least ONE trashy romance novel. _One can get bored on nights where they can't sleep._ She knew how the beginnings of "love" always looked, or at least how they were depicted in books. She was not totally ignorant on the topic of relationships , although she hadn't ever had nor dreamed of having one herself. She saw how Thalarion blushed and how he listened to her, attention purely on her. Normally, it would make her absolutely sick, but she didn't mind when it came from him.

She feared that Thalarion was starting to think of her in ways that were more than friendly. She could damn near to read his thoughts from his body language and mannerisms. She hoped he hadn't been able to do the same to her.


	5. Questions to Answers

Weeks had gone by since the thought provoking trip to the Dragonblight. The two elves' relationship had returned to its original state, with minimal conversation other than Sapphira getting angry or Thalarion generally being clueless. Morale was high in Dalaran, as the Kirin Tor and Argent Crusade had gained some ground against the Lich King. A celebration was planned, a ball, to help keep morale high and shed any remaining tension.

Sapphira had been ignoring the hype from other female mages about the celebration, only focusing on her interactions with the gnome alchemist whose name she learned to be Risellie. "Well, what you found certainly is Saronite, but there's something _off_ about it!", the tiny, pink haired gnome squealed, gesturing to a lump of the ore in her little hand. "The place that you found it in sounds a lot like it has to do with the Titans. But, it being in a Titan-esque place doesn't explain these blue veins. You see, Lady Azurebreeze, these veins show that Scourge magic has been literally imbued into the ore! Scourge magic is volatile, and it needs to have a 'host' of sorts, to be able to be used properly. Take a spellbook or the Lich King's sword or helmet, for instance. The spellbook, armor, and sword holds the magic itself, but the user, lets say Arthas, is a conduit. Kind of like a wire, for the magic to travel through. Therefore, this Saronite is a 'host' for Scourge magic! Why Saronite of all things has been imbued, I don't know, but I'm sure I'll find out soon.", Risellie finished, taking a deep breath.

"Thank you for your help, Risellie. I'll stop by again in a few days.", Sapphira stood up and began to walk away from the tiny alchemist. "Wait, one second!", the gnome had squalled, hopping up and running towards the mage as fast her squat legs could carry her. "Yes?", Sapphira asked, looking down at Risellie.

"Thalarion was here earlier, looking for you. I don't know what he wanted, so I sent him off.", the gnome stammered. Sapphira turned her gaze back towards the exit of Risellie's laboratory, which was inside a part of the Violet Hold. "Thank you.", she only said, before continuing on her original track.

She found Thalarion conversing with a Sunreaver under a lamp post, smiling and laughing. He turned and noticed her, before bidding the Sunreaver goodbye and striding up to the mage. "I was told you were looking for me earlier.", she said when Thalarion reached her. "Ah...um, yes.", he stuttered, fiddling with one of his gauntlets.

"Thalarion, spit it out. I don't have time for this.", she ordered. In reality, Sapphira had the entire day at her disposal, but didn't want to sit here and watch Thalarion melt into a nervous wreck.

He knew it was against his better judgement to do such a thing, but he was having such difficulty enduring his thoughts of Sapphira that he couldn't help it. He absolutely had to, or he swore his heart would fall right out of his chest.

"My lady, I know it's inappropriate, but I wanted to request something of you.", he stuttered some more, not doing a very good job of disguising his nervousness. Sapphira's long eyebrows raised and she cocked her head at him, not seeming so irritated anymore. "I wanted to know if you would do me the honor of being my 'date', if you will, at the upcoming celebration this week.", he launched out, bracing himself for a crippling decline. She only stared at him. No reply, no expression, nothing.

"I've offended you, haven't I?", he worried aloud. "No, you haven't offended me. I am merely... surprised. The ball is in two days, correct?", she questioned. He was relieved that he hadn't offended her, but concerned about how she was eluding answering him. He nodded in response to her question. "I don't have a definite 'yes' or 'no' for you,", she said tentatively, "however, I may put in an appearance at this dance. It is not set in stone."

He felt like falling over. She hadn't outright told him to get lost, but hadn't swooned and grinned at him either. Still, it pleased him greatly.


	6. Fear

The date of the dance had crept up quietly, and soon, Sapphira found herself in her shower, scrubbing herself clean in preparation for what might possibly be the most out of character thing she had ever done. As soon as she thought she was satisfactorily clean, she stepped out of the shower and looked into the mirror.

She brushed and dried her hair until it was glossy like raven wings, before pulling it into a bun that was much looser than what she normally wore. She allowed several strands of black hair to gather around her face, letting them fall down to her jaw elegantly. After making sure her hair would stay in that style, Sapphira made her way into her bedroom, where her dress was laid out. A full length mirror stood in the corner of the bedroom.

With a deep sigh, after putting on necessary undergarments, Sapphira began to put the dress on. It was black and floor length, made out of a silky material she didn't know the name of. It had no sleeves, with a form fitting bodice, that allowed the material to drape regally from her hips. Around her waist she fastened a sash that appeared to be moving and alive. It was a deep purplish-blue, with stars dancing throughout it. It looked like the Twisting Nether itself had been put into fabric.

After putting on a pair of black heels, elbow length black gloves, and simple sapphire necklace, she looked into the mirror, not recognizing the woman that looked back. After figuring she had braced herself enough, Sapphira finally made her way to the hall where the dance was being held.

Thalarion stood by the entrance, ignoring the sultry gazes of human and elf women adorned in finery. He knew it to be possible that Sapphira just wouldn't show up, but he hoped very dearly that she would. His hair was up in its Kal'dorei tail, but his usual Blood Knight armor wasn't present. In its place was what the tailor had called a 'tuxedo'. He felt naked without his sword and armor, but dealt with it. He dealt without having his armor better than he did not having Sapphira with him.

The ball was finally starting to grind into action when he thought he saw a flash of familiar, pale skin. He noticed her when she walked gingerly into the hall, seeming so nervous and out of place. She saw him a few moments later and maneuvered her way through the crowds of mages and paladins alike to a face she knew well.

Thalarion had no words to describe how she looked. She was beautiful, but 'beautiful' was too weak a word to describe her. Sapphira looked up into his grassy-eyes, even offering a thin smile. "You came.", he stated, bowing before her. "I honestly don't know why I did.", she confided, shedding a bit of her cold demeanor. "May I?", he asked, motioning to her hand.

After a bit of thought, she nodded. He took her hand and placed a gentle kiss on the shadowy material of the glove. _Alright, Thalarion, slow the hell down. Remember that she won't reciprocate romance?_

"Would you allow me a dance?", he asked, releasing her hand and motioning to the open space in the middle of the room. "I'm afraid I don't know how to dance.", she said, looking down at her feet.

"I'll show you then.", he gave a quick grin, before taking her hand and leading her out into the space. He placed her inactive hand on his shoulder, before depositing his on her waist. He held their conjoined hands high, and nodded at a rather bored looking orchestra.

The orchestra sprung to life, starting an unfamiliar waltz. *Note : I picture the orchestra playing this watch?v=lH6qxlpytrQ *

All eyes were diverted to the pair, and there were audible gasps heard throughout the ballroom. Thalarion started to move first, with Sapphira staying thoroughly attached to him. He twirled her around the empty space, even dipping her a few times.

Unbelieving whispers were heard throughout the hall.

 _ **Is that Connordia's daughter?**_

 _ **Why is Sir Sunstrike dancing with her?**_

 _ **I heard she's just like her mother.**_

 _ **Look at her, she's sickly looking!**_

 _ **Why would someone as respectable as him dance with a murderer's daughter? It's disgraceful.**_

As the waltz ended, Thalarion dipped Sapphira down low, gazing into her orchid eyes. He led her off the dance floor and back towards the corner where they had met, hoping to get rid of some of the attention. He didn't want anything to make Sapphira's first taste of being socially active an unpleasant experience. He noticed Risellie, the gnome alchemist Sapphira had been in contact with, across the room, chatting with a dwarven Crusader who looked pretty drunk off his arse.

He was reluctant to let go of Sapphira's hand, but he did. He knew he had definitely given too much away by dancing with Sapphira. "That was both...strange and exciting.", she commented, looking up into his eyes. "Were you pleased with the experience?", he asked, trying to memorize all the contours of her face.

"Yes. I hate to admit it, but I was quite nervous about dancing with you.", she confided again. She let out a shaky laugh. He could tell she was getting increasingly uncomfortable surrounded by all these people. "Come.", he ordered, offering his arm to her and leading her out of the hall.

Thalarion led her to the landing, which thankfully, was empty. It seemed that every Dalaran citizen was present at the dance. "I could tell you were getting uncomfortable.", he noted, removing Sapphira's arm from his own.

He couldn't get too attached. Not now.

He turned from her and looked out at the starry horizon, watching the the Aurora Borealis waver against the night sky. He felt a small hand turn him back towards her.

"I know what you're hiding. You're not nearly as subtle as you think.", she confessed, offering a consolatory smile. He about choked on his own breath, both from the smile and her confession. She was so out of character tonight, and it made him happy. "You...know?", he coughed out.

"Of course I know, Thalarion.", she giggled a little. "How? Was it the dancing?", he was in total awe. "The dancing confirmed it. No, it was your behavior several weeks ago that gave me suspicions.", she looked down at her feet.

He gently took her chin and made her look back up at him. "What do you think of it?", he muttered, lost in her eyes and the feel of her skin. He felt her fingers wind around his wrist. "I'm both frightened and enchanted, along with being disgusted with myself for not minding.", she said, pulling away and wrapping her arms around herself.

"Why are you disgusted?", he asked with great concern. "I never wanted to be involved romantically with anyone. And then, a few conversations and touches from you, and suddenly, my mind is muddled with a scarlet haze. But yet, I don't mind it. That's why I'm disgusted, Thalarion.", she said sharply, and he could see her shoulders shuddering.

He whirled her around and saw the tears streaming from her large eyes and dripping down her prominent cheekbones. Crying. He never thought he would see someone normally so cold and distanced as Sapphira showing any kind of sadness. He took her face into his hands again, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb.

"Please, don't cry.", he consoled.

She averted her eyes away from him, but did not struggle away from the presence of his palm or fingers.

Thalarion pressed his lips against hers softly, letting his hands fall down around her elegant neck. He felt her fingers around his forearms and her leaning into him. He brushed his lips against hers and felt her shudder before pulling away.

"Do you want this?", he asked , tracing his thumb against her jaw.

"I do... But i'm frightened.", she looked up at him, her eyes still wide and watery. Without a word, he pulled her against his chest with his arms around her shoulders. Her arms wrapped around his torso when he pressed a kiss to her head.

"I'll chase the fear away."


	7. Awake and Paranoid

Sapphira awoke in a warm, unfamiliar room, tangled in a tall, muscled elf's arms. She turned her head as best she could, seeing that it was Thalarion. She put two and two together, figuring she was in his room at the inn. She took note that she still had her dress and shoes on, that her eyes ached and felt puffy, and that her lips tasted of wine and ambrosia. She didn't recall eating anything at the dance, so it must've been the taste that Thalarion's lips left on her own.

The memories of the ball came flooding back. Her breaking down and sobbing in front of Thalarion, the two of them dancing, the kiss they had shared, everything. She didn't know whether to be happy or reduce to a teary, red eyed mess. She had loved the way his lips fit against hers, the way his arms had wound around her shoulders, the way that he held her in his sleep. But she was terrified at the concept of being romantically involved with another person. She was conflicted. Saving her thoughts for another time, she settled back into Thalarion's embrace, falling back asleep with her head on his shoulder.

 _ **Only when our goddess' rebirth is near, shall they return. The death god, the one they call Arthas, will usher in the first of them. Our merciful Mother's guardians will herald her coming, with songs of reverence and praise. Thus saith the goddess.**_

Thalarion woke up a few hours later, after Sapphira had fallen back into tranquil slumber, nestled in his arms. He smiled, looking down at the small woman, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. _Slow down with the affection, hotshot. You don't want to drive her away._ Sapphira awoke with a groan from Thalarion's actions, rolling over to face him. He gathered her in his arms and pulled her close to his chest, resting his chin on her head. His suit's jacket had come undone, and Sapphira could see pale skin where buttons on his dress shirt had come undone.

The two layed in eachother's arms for a good while before one of them spoke, breaking the sleepy, blissful silence. "Are you still comfortable with everything that happened last night?", Thalarion muttered, using a free hand to prod Sapphira's head up and avert her gaze to him. She didn't answer, only breaking away from his arms and sitting on the side of the bed. "I have mixed feelings about the whole concept of having a relationship with you.", she replied finally, burying her face in her hands.

Thalarion maneuvered himself so that he was sitting next to her, and directed her gaze to him again. "I'm willing to wait until you're completely comfortable then, if that's what it takes.", he reassured, taking one of her small, bony hands into his own. "That's not my concern, Thalarion. I'm absolutely terrified, as much as I hate to admit it, of being romantically involved. I don't know how to act, what to say, how to make advances.", she cried, shuddering. "Most of all, I'm terrified that as soon as I allow myself to get attached to you, you'll disappear.", she buried her face in her elegant hands again, drawing in shaky breaths.

"Please don't be afraid anymore.", he muttered, drawing her back into his arms and stroking her onyx hair. "I won't disappear either, I promise. You are still my partner, and my sole duty is to protect you. I can't very well disappear with that on my shoulders. Not with clear conscience anyway.", he drabbled soothingly. "We'll take things slowly, alright? One step at a time."

After Sapphira had eventually pulled herself together and Thalarion managed to drag himself away from her, she left and started to head for home, ready to go out on whatever mission Rhonin had in store for them. Her head was muddled with thoughts and worries that Thalarion hadn't been able to chase away, not even with his reassurances and displays of affection. She tried to make them dissipate as she stepped into her shower, but to no avail.

The pair of elves met up again outside the Violet Hold, with Thalarion offering a warm smile. He wanted to extend a hand to her, but he guessed that Sapphira wouldn't be one for public affection, especially if she was having trouble with private displays of affection. She gave him a nod in reply, gesturing towards the entrance where Rhonin would likely be waiting for them. She went first, as always, with Thalarion trailing behind her.

"Lady Azurebreeze, what good timing.", Rhonin commented as he looked up from a heated discussion with Vereesa Windrunner. "There is an assignment I need done, immediately."

"I'd be willing to fulfill it. What is it you require?", Sapphira asked, voice back to its cold and business-like tone.

"There's been an attack on one of our camps in the Howling Fjord. Would you please go check up on all residents?"

"Sir, with all due respect, there are attacks on our camps daily. What's happened that makes this one important enough that a mage needs to be physically sent out of Dalaran?"

"Lady Azurebreeze, this task is of utmost importance. I haven't the foggiest idea what attacked the camp, but the mages on the other side of the communicator were extremely frightened and out of sorts. You know that simple Scourge and Blue Dragonflight war parties don't make camps of magi fly into a panic.", Rhonin explained, clearly getting irritated with Sapphira's hesitance.

"Northern part of Howling Fjord, correct?", she asked, pulling out a map and looking it over, with her paladin peering over her shoulder. "Correct.", Rhonin stated, turning back to Vereesa.

Sapphira turned to Thalarion, who had donned his Blood Knight armor and great sword, and spoke directly to him. "We leave at once. Go to the Northern landing and find us some sort of flying mounts. This is a journey that cannot be made on foot. I'll grab a few things from my home and meet you there in about fifteen minutes. Be ready.", she ordered before striding away.

With minimal difficulty, Thalarion had managed to find two available dragonhawks for him and his mistress to use. _It's been awhile since I've flown_ , Thalarion mused inside his head. He heard light footsteps behind him and automatically knew it to be his mistress. "Have you ever flown a dragonhawk, my lady?", Thalarion questioned, saddling up a beautiful gold and silver Quel'thalas breed of dragonhawk.

"I don't believe I have.", she said, eyeing the strange creature with some skepticism. Thalarion moved on to saddling the second dragonhawk, which appeared to be a native Northrend breed. The edges of its wings were stained with an inky blackness, standing out against the faint blue-white of the rest of its body. "It won't be that difficult. Dragonhawks are fairly mild tempered and when well-trained, quite friendly and obedient.", he remarked, extending his hand out to the mage.

Thalarion planned on having Sapphira mount the Northrend breed, as it seemed much tamer and less prone to biting or disobeying. He couldn't say the same for the Quel'thalas breed.

Sapphira took Thalarion's hand and allowed him to lead her close to the Northrend dragonhawk. It looked down on her suspiciously for a few moments, before returning to jabbering at the other hawk near it. Thalarion took a few moments to explain how to control the Dragonhawk, and what different noises meant what. After doing so, he helped her up on to the saddle, handing her the reins that dangled near the beast's sharp beak.

When he was certain that everything was ready to go with his mistress, he returned to the Quel'thalas breed. It snapped at him a few times as he tried to mount it, but eventually seemed to accept his presence. "Do you know where to go?", Sapphira asked, looking up from her mount to Thalarion. "Yes, I was looking over your shoulder while you took orders from Rhonin.", he answered, taking the dragonhawk's reins. "Lead the way then.", she took one hand and motioned to the open air away from the platform.

With a nudge of his heels, Thalarion was in flight, headed towards the Kirin Tor camp in Howling Fjord. He turned and looked back to make sure Sapphira was faring well, but she seemed to have caught on to flying quickly.

About halfway to Howling Fjord, Sapphira's thoughts drifted to what Risellie, the gnome alchemist, had said about the Saronite that she and Thalarion had found in the Dragonblight. A 'host' for Scourge magic, that's what she had called it. It definitely was thought provoking. She hadn't mentioned one particular thing to Risellie though. She hadn't mentioned that when she looked at the strange ore, she felt something looking back at her.


	8. Screamer

_The human Kirin Tor mage didn't know what to make of what he and the remaining people had seen. It was long and serpentine, without legs, but with unbelievably large wings that it used in place of arms. It had been a dark, slate color, and was covered in what looked like plates of Saronite. Its lower jaw had been completely made of Saronite, and its horns lightly layered with it. Its eyes had been alight with a Scourge-blue fire. But that hadn't been what stuck out most. Not the blade on its tail or the Saronite jaw. No, what stuck out most was around its chest, there was a hole, filled with a chunk of Saronite ore, glowing with Scourge magic veins. The ore had been held in place by several chains and sheet of steel, he swore he could've seen a face drift by within the ore itself._

 _It had come crashing out of the sky without warning, buffeting its wings, scattering mages left and right. With one sweep of its tail, it demolished several tents and crushed at least two mages. It had one particular ability that had given the survivors a name to coin it as. It had raised itself up like a rattler in Tanaris, positioning its wings behind it. And with one, swift motion, it threw itself forward, opening its mouth and dragging out a high pitched scream. The scream brought the mages to their knees, hands immediately moving to cover their ears. The human's ears had actually began to bleed when the creature had screamed._

 _He took a swig of whiskey from a dwarf lady's flask, trying to drown out the memories of the horrid creature. There was only one name that the mage and the other survivors would know the creature by. **Deathscreamer.**_

After hours of flying, Sapphira and Thalarion arrived at the wreckage of the Kirin Tor camp. There was a small group of survivors huddled beneath a tall tree, passing around a Dwarven whiskey flask. As soon as the pair landed, Sapphira waved Thalarion off. "Go look through the ruins. I'll speak with the survivors.", she ordered, heading off towards the tree the group was nestled underneath.

"Did Rhonin send you?", a male human with bronze hair asked when he saw Sapphira, voice muddled from liquor. Sapphira nodded and saluted. The human didn't reciprocate her actions. "You want to what caused all this?", the human growled, taking a long drink of booze.

"Sir, that's why I'm here. Now, tell me what happened.", she ordered, clearly tired of the human's drunkeness already.

While Sapphira listened to what the survivors had to say, Thalarion poked through the destroyed wreckage of the camp. There were deep blood stains, and pieces of flesh strewn here and there, but no corpses. No flames either, which surprised the holy knight quite a lot. He partly expected that the Red Dragonflight had turned on them, and a team of Alexstrasza's handmaidens had come and tried to drown everything in fire. He knew that that would never happen though.

After about a half hour of trying to find some sort of the clue in the wreckages, but to no great success, he heard Sapphira call him over to where they tied up their Dragonhawks. "I've set up a beacon by them. A team of hippogryphs should be by momentarily to rescue them.", she said, motioning towards the group of drunken survivors. "I'll tell you what happened when we're up in the air.", she continued, mounting her Dragonhawk.

When the partners were soaring through the skies back towards Dalaran, Sapphira began to rattle of what the human had told her.

 _ **Heart of Saronite, imbued with the magic of the undead and the soul of the Damned. Bone of Frost Wyrm, and the power of the Death God's sword. When these three are combined, the Goddess' first guardian will come into existence. So it is written, so it shall be. Thus saith the Goddess.**_

 __Thalarion was in total awe of the recollection of events Sapphira had told him of. "They called it a 'Deathscreamer'?", he wondered aloud, trying to imagine such a terrifying creature. "I've never heard of such an abberation before. I wonder if its at all possible that the Saronite I gave to Risellie has a connection to this 'Deathscreamer.", Sapphira mused, her dragonhawk veering away from Thalarion's.

Thalarion had let his guard down in the air, not fearing that anything would dare attack them. He was shocked out of this reverie, however, when he heard Sapphira's dragonhawk let out a screech of pain, and began falling right out of the sky. He saw Sapphira gripping on to the dragonhawk's torso, covering her sleeves in deep red blood. He tried to get his own mount to fly down after her, but it wouldn't listen, only continuing to fly forward.

"Sapphira!", he screamed, trying to gode the dragonhawk into listening, but it just pretended not to hear his commands or feel his tugging at the reins. He could only watch helplessly as his love plummeted down into a grove of trees.

The dying Northrend dragonhawk crashed through the branches and cold, frosty leaves, becoming like a ragdoll as it hit the icy ground. Sapphira, now battered and bruised, tugged herself off of the dead animal, and looked around the grove. Standing in front of her were three Vrykul women, one with a bow.

"This is the one the Death God wanted, yes?", the archer one asked the others. It was near to impossible to make out what she was saying through the thick accent. "Yes, sister.", the other two answered simultaneously. The second in the trio, a heavily armored woman with a greataxe, marched forward, towards Sapphira. She grabbed Sapphira by her neck, lifting her off the ground. Sapphira slapped at the calloused hand, but to no avail. "Be careful, Sister, she is to be the vessel. She cannot be hurt.", the other two Vyrkul said as they moved to Sapphira's sides, binding her wrists and ankles in chains.

The third in the trio looked to be a seer, and she opened a glasslike image of what could only be Icecrown Citadel. "Step through, Sisters.", she said, motioning towards the portal. The warrior threw Sapphira over her shoulder before walking through, being followed by the other two.


	9. Unconditional Love

_In the beginning, when the curse of flesh overtook the Vrykul, they had no one to turn to. Those who had been stricken with the curse wandered the icy wastes of Northrend, cold, confused, and abandoned. Or, so they thought._

 _In truth, they were not alone. A being of near God-like power watched them closely, interest piqued by their will to live, even with the curse. The being took pity on them when she saw them struggling to survive Northrend's climate._

 _Moved by the Vrykul's will to live, she calmed the Northern wind, allowing for more hunting opportunities and lowering the chance of death by exposure. As the Vrykul grew in power, she watched ever closer, waiting for the day where she could reveal herself to those that she thought of as her children._

 _Years passed ;great warriors rose and fell, always in her sights._

 _Seva, a dedicated but young seer, had gone into a cave in what is now called the Grizzly Hills, intent on honing her abilities. A new moon had risen over Northrend, painting the hills in a pale glow. The being looked on Seva with favor, and deemed this the opportune moment to reveal herself._

 _" **Seva** ", she whispered, her voice echoing from the earthen walls themselves. _

_"Who would speak to me?", she had replied, looking for the source of the voice._

 _" **My daughter, I have no name**. **I have watched over you and your predecessors for innumerable years, shielding you from an icy death. Daughter, I have something I would ask of you.** "_

 _Seva looked to the back of the chamber, where she had erected a small bone and feather totem._

 _"What would you ask?", she questioned, gazing at the totem._

 _" **Child, let me reach out to you and your people. Let me become close to those that I have loved from afar, those who were unaware of my presence.** "_

 _"Mother, reach out to us. Appear before me, that I might know the one who has shown me mercy."_

 _The being materialized slowly before the oracle, in a shroud of twisting, bone-chilling winds and snow. Upon her face, a large sheet of aquamarine ice, concealing all but the azure glow of eyes behind it. Long, white braids fell from her head, silver rings at the end of each. She was wrapped in shimmering, pale blue veils, as though she were clothed in the Northern winds themselves. Her skin was snow white, pulled taut against bones._

 _Seva prostrated herself before the being, not looking up at the Goddess out of fear and reverence._

 _" **Daughter, do not fear me. Rise, stand tall and stalwart.** "_

 _Seva stood, looking up into the sheet of ice that functioned as a mask for the being._

 _"What would you have me do, Mother?"_

 _The being turned, wrapping long, bony fingers around the crude totem. She concentrated a moment, before cobalt veins throbbed in the feathers._

 _Handing the idol to Seva, she spoke once more._

 _" **Tell the others of me. I have come to my sons and daughters at last.** "_

 _With these last words, the being faded._

 _Seva had done what the being had asked, spreading the word of the Goddess. The Vrykul named the entity **Sjol'Vess,** revering her above all else. _

_Seva had gathered mass amounts of her race in Jotunheim, wanting the Goddess to appear in her pure form. Upon a raised platform stood Seva and several other seers, kneeling around Sjol'Vess's idol. Behind them knelt thousands of Vrykul warriors, hunters, and oracles, male and female alike._

 _They sang in their native tongue of a Goddess of mercy and ice, of warriors and seers._

" _Mother, Mother!"_

" _O mercy and love!"_

 _They cried, chanted, and sang until they thought their voices would break._

 _Until she appeared._

 _She came down in haze of azure and frost, levitating a few feet above the idol. She was slightly transparent, tendrils of blue weaving around her arms and legs._

 _"_ _ **My children, I hear your songs. I have watched you since the curse of flesh overtook you, watched since you refused to die. Sons and daughters, I wish to watch over you and protect you more.**_ _", the Goddess declared, raising her arms and looking down at the many faces._

 _"_ _ **I do this in the form of a gift, children. A gift for your worship and acknowledgement.**_ _"_

 _Sjol'Vess raised her head to the side and let loose an ear-piercing howl, calling forth a black shadow._

 _The shadow morphed into a serpentine drake, plated with Saronite._

 _"_ _ **These creatures are my guardians, the upholders of my code and word. These Deathscreamers will be yours to command, so long as you should keep me as your Mother.**_ _"_

 _Sjol'Vess's gift was not without cost, however. To create a Deathscreamer required a number of rare reagents and a living soul. A certain kind of Saronite, imbued with the soul of a damned, was one of the few. The Vyrkul willingly followed and obeyed their Goddess without question, sacrificing the lower ranked of their brethren._

 _At last, Sjol'Vess could not stand to watch her worshippers from a realm, distant from Azeroth. She called Seva to her totem, late on a night of a new moon._

 _"Mother, you have called me. What would you ask?", Seva questioned, kneeling before the idol._

 _"_ _ **Seva, my daughter, I feel so distant still from my brood. This plane I inhabit feels disconnected from your realm. What I am going to ask of you is no small task, but it is the only way I see to truly connect with your race.**_ _", Sjol'Vess's voice whispered from the feathers._

 _"What do you ask of me?"_

 _"_ _ **Daughter, I wish to enter your plane of existence. I cannot do this without a mortal body to inhabit, however. Seva, I wish to commune with you and make you my vessel. Will you do this?**_ _"_

 _Seva bowed before the totem._

 _"Yes, Mother."_

 _Communing with Sjol'Vess meant that Seva's soul would be removed from her body, and replaced with a piece of the Goddess. While controlling Seva's body, she would not be in her astral plane. Seva's soul would be split in two, one part being put into a phylactery, and the other being imbued and used for a Deathscreamer._

 _Seva did indeed commune with Sjol'Vess, but at great cost. Sjol'Vess's presence ravaged and weakened her body. The act of communing with the Goddess was unimaginably painful, but she still did so out of religious fanaticism._

 _Sjol'Vess was only able to inhabit Seva's body for a short time before collapsing._

" _ **My children, do not fear. I will return again. The death god's rise will herald my rebirth, be it thousands of years from now or only a few.**_ _", she had spoke with her last breath._

 _After Sjol'Vess had collapsed, her worshippers dispersed, as did her Deathscreamers. Worship of her stopped and died out, as there were no more signs of her presence. Only until recently had she faded from memory._


	10. Piecing Together the Puzzle

"You have to do _something_!", Thalarion shouted at Rhonin, slamming a fist on to the round table between them.

"Thalarion, we cannot do anything if we haven't a single clue where she is! From what you described, it's even quite likely that she's dead!", Rhonin bellowed back.

Within moments of the words running from Rhonin's mouth, Thalarion was on him. The burly elf had the archmage by his neck against the wall, fist raised to strike.

"Stop!", Lady Proudmoore ordered, staff raised at the paladin. "Let him go, Sunstrike."

With a huff and a glare, he reluctantly released Rhonin, turning and marching out the door where he had come through.

Darion Mograine stood and watched as Jaina rushed over to her superior, helping him off the ground. The Knights of the Ebon Blade, after much consideration, had joined the alliance formed by the Argent Crusade and the Kirin Tor.

"Is he always like that?", the highlord asked, gesturing toward the door Thalarion had exited through.

With a cough, Rhonin answered, "No, not at all. Sir Sunstrike is generally very slow to anger or to resort to physical violence. Lady Azurebreeze's disappearance has kept him in a permanently foul mood."

"Well, no wonder. You saw how he looked at her, and how they had danced together at the ball several weeks ago. He loves her.", Jaina growled, still fussing over Rhonin.

"Love is very blinding, especially in this case. He loves her, and does not want to accept that odds state that she is very likely to be dead.", Rhonin muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Weeks had gone by since Thalarion had watched Sapphira fall out of the sky on a wounded dragonhawk. He had been having issues sleeping ever since, only having strange and disquieting dreams of a corpse-like deity and of Sapphira.

Returning from the explosive fight with Rhonin, Thalarion fell on to his bed, rummaging through one of his bedside drawers. He finally settled on a small black box, opening it and looking inside.

 _"I wanted to thank you with something more meaningful than a kiss or hand squeeze.", Sapphira said, pulling a small, onyx box from one of her many satchels. "I hope you don't think it out of place."_

 _Inside lay an ornate, silver band, a royal purple gem sitting in the center, surrounded by small, cobalt tanzanites. Thalarion had fit the ring over his thumb, beneath his gauntlet._

 _"They're my colours. I thought it would be more romantic than a flower that will die in a few days or some meaningless assortment of words that anyone has the nerve to call 'poetry'."_

Thalarion turned the ring over in his hands, basking in the memory. He noticed starlight streaming in through a nearby window, glinting off the keepsake. Holding the ring tenderly in his palms, he drifted into sleep.

 _Thalarion fell into another dream, only, this was no dream. Sapphira knelt in Icecrown Citadel, arms chained up at her sides. She was naked, with her hair cascading down her back and breasts. It was obvious that she hadn't eaten in a long while. Her ribs and shoulder blades protruded awkwardly beneath her pearly skin. Dark, bruise-like shadows surrounded her once vibrant orchid eyes. Three Vrykul women entered the cell ; a warrior, an archer, and a seer._ _ **Veril, Alailin, and Sirol.**_

 _The warrior, Veril, slung Sapphira's limp and weak body over her shoulder while Alailin, the archer, and Sirol, the oracle, unlocked her chains from the walls. Sirol and Alailin wrapped the silver chains ornately around Sapphira's nakedness, before leaving the cell._

Thalarion awoke abruptly, confused about the strange scene he had witnessed. Shaking his head and trying to rid himself of the image, he put away Sapphira's ring and headed down into the Inn for breakfast.

He felt sick to his stomach after looking upon Sapphira's skeletal form. He couldn't bring himself to gag any food down, only some lukewarm Kal'Dorei tea. Staring down into the swirling amber of the tea, he felt a sharp poke at his side.

"Sir Sunstrike?", came a small voice that he had gotten to know well.

"Risellie?", he said, surprised. "What do you need?"

The gnome was flustered, her pink hair sticking up in various places and coffee stains all over her cover-alls. "I need to come to my laboratory NOW!", she shrieked, grabbing at his wrist and trying to tug him along.

Yielding to the little gnome, Thalarion followed. A stench of decaying flesh and burning Saronite hit him when he found himself in Risellie's secluded lab. Sitting in a corner was the one and only Brann Bronzebeard.

"Thalarion, I'd like you to meet Brann Bronzebeard. Using the strange Saronite samples you and Lady Azurebreeze brought me, we've stumbled upon something absolutely fascinating, but dreadful."

Hopping up next to the copper-haired dwarf, Risellie began to explain.

"Do you recall how I told you that the Saronite you brought me was being used as a host for Scourge magic? Well, I found out the purpose for it, and it's connected to an ancient and powerful deity and her guardians. The place you found it in, despite sounding very Titan-esque, is actually Vrykul in origin.", Risellie paused and turned to Brann.

"Right! Long, long ago, there was a Vrykul oracle, Seva. Seva brought about the rise of the goddess Sjol'Vess. Sjol'Vess's guardians, the Deathscreamers, required a heart of Saronite imbued with the soul of a damned. However, Saronite by itself cannot withstand an angered soul, and will crumble if imbued. BUT, this Saronite that you and Lady Azurebreeze found is strengthened and being used as a host for Scourge magic, and can withstand the damned soul. This area you the Saronite found in in the Dragonblight is one of the many wayshrines Seva established for Sjol'Vess. Seva corrupted the very ground, thus causing all Saronite that would ever be there to permanently host Scourge magic, or if we want to get technical, a sect of magic dedicated purely to Sjol'Vess. Now, about Sjol'Vess. This goddess was viewed as a mother of mercy and unconditional love, a protector, a shield that the Vrykul could always rely on. Sjol'Vess was able to control the Northern winds and much of Northrend's wild beasts, along with her Deathscreamers.

Sjol'Vess wanted to become close with the Vrykul, close like a mother and her children. In turn, Seva offered herself up, becoming a vessel for the goddess, but losing her body in the process. Seva's body was not strong enough to withstand Sjol'Vess's presence, and she collapsed. She declared with her dying breath, that the death god's uprising would herald her return. The 'death god' to the Vrykul is Arthas, remember? Although, her return seems rather unlikely, as worship of her eventually completely disappeared.", Brann had gotten up and started pacing while he was explaining to Thalarion.

"Is there any possibility that Sapphira's disappearance would have to do with this deity's return?", Thalarion asked, turning towards the candy-haired gnome. Risellie's eyes widened, and she turned questioningly to Brann.

"By Sapphira, I assume you mean Lady Sapphira Azurebreeze?", Brann wondered.

Thalarion nodded at the dwarf.

"It is very possible. Sapphira's magical prowess shows that she has a high capacity for magic and power, and thus would make her an ideal candidate to be Sjol'Vess's new host.", Brann started shaking his head and tugging at his beard.

Thalarion then proceeded to tell them about the strange dream he had had.

Brann's eyes widened before he spoke again.

"Thalarion, it is very likely that that was no dream. Your direct connection with her may be invoking a higher power, and giving you visions. This confirms that Sapphira is indeed going to be used to bring Sjol'Vess back into this world. This is bad, very very VERY bad.", Brann started pacing again.

"Risellie, go tell Rhonin of your findings, now.", Thalarion ordered.

The little gnome didn't question and immediately ran to find the Archmage.


	11. Rebirth

Sapphira awoke to her head lolling back and forth rather roughly. She attempted to raise her head and analyze her surroundings, but was too weak to do so. _Where am I?_ She felt the warmth of the Vrykul Shield-Maiden's shoulder, even through the thick plate armor.

She looked to both her sides and saw the archer and the oracle. The oracle was carrying a long, casket-like box.

Sapphira drifted in and out of consciousness before feeling the cold, metal ground on her calves. Her arms were strung up at her sides again, with more silver chains, and her head bowed down in mock respect. The could see out of the corners of her eyes that this room looked more like a cathedral than a dungeon. She felt cold wind on her back, and assumed that the front of the hall was an opening into Northrend.

At her sides were tall, dark walls and round, stained glass portaits of a deity she did not recognize. Scourge-flame braziers dotted the walls and ground as well.

"The new moon has risen, Sisters?", she heard the oracle ask.

"Yes, Sister.", the two replied in unison.

Sapphira now noticed the glow of the moon, bringing her shadow in front of her. The seer began placing black candles in a circle around Sapphira, lighting each with an incantation in her native tongue. The archer placed down a chunk of the strange Saronite that Sapphira had seen in the Dragonblight at one side, while the warrior placed a crystalline phylactery at her opposite. Finally, directly in front of the ragged elf, the seer placed a bone-feather totem.

"Mother, the time is now.", they all said at once.

That's when the pain started.

It was like her blood had been replaced by fire, like every single bone in her body was being broken at once, like her skin had been doused in Emerald Dragonflight venom. Her body contorted in the agony, her screams piercing the dismal cathedral.

Then the bleariness. Her vision went blurry and seemed to tear down the middle, shifting back and forth. Her screams were ringing in her ears, starting to sound distant and echoing.

Veril, Alailin, and Sirol watched as the strange purple and fuschia light came from Sapphira's chest and poured separately into the phylactery and the chunk of ore. Her hair had started to go white, her eyes turning a Scourge blue, and ice forming over her face. They saw her veins turn black, her skin go taut. Then, the cobalt from the totem began to siphon into her chest. The black veins glowed with a throbbing cobalt.

A flash of light. Then her voice. The trio prostrated themselves in front of the goddess, who levitated a bit off the ground in the circle of candles. Along with the transparent blue veils, chains that seemed to move on their own accord were wound around Sjol'Vess's body.

" **My daughters, I return."**


	12. War Machines and Blessings

Risellie stampeded into the Violet Citadel in search of Rhonin, finally finding him, but not noticing the Argent Crusader with blood coated on his ears. It was a male draenei paladin, his hooves caked with snow and blood.

"Hordes of them, they...slaughtered everything in their path. Their wretched screams killed all of my platoon.", the draenei was choking out, struggling to keep his composure. Darion Mograine, who was standing silently in a corner, was the first to notice the frantic little gnome. "Rhonin, it's the alchemist.", Darion said, clearing his throat.

Rhonin turned from the draenei to Risellie. "Risellie, this better be important.", he groaned, staring down hard at the alchemist. "Sir, with all due respect, this is more important than an Argent Dawn platoon being wiped out.", she said sharply, ignoring the vindicator.

"If it's so important, then spit it out!"

"We've found out what's happened to Lady Azurebreeze, sir."

"And this is important, how?"

" **BECAUSE SHE'S BEEN USED TO RESURECT AN ANCIENT VRYKUL GODDESS!"** , the gnome screeched, flapping her arms at the archmage.

Rhonin was taken aback by Risellie's outburst and by the news of Lady Azurebreeze. "How do you know this?", he prodded, the vindicator behind him now forgotten. Risellie proceeded to rattle off all the information that she, Brann, and Thalarion had found.

Rhonin buried his face in his hands. "I swear, it's the end of the damned world.", he growled.

"Archmage, might I remind you that we need to march on Icecrown Citadel soon? The rise of Sjol'Vess and her Deathscreamers is a very good reason to launch an assault, and quickly. Vindicator Ortuun over there just described the destruction that the Screamers leave in their wake. The longer we wait, the more of them there will be, and the more they'll outnumber us.", the death knight Highlord broke in, motioning to the draenei.

Rhonin sighed. "You're right, Darion. Vereesa!",he called, bringing Vereesa Windrunner out from down a long corridor. "Yes?", she asked. "Summon Tirion Fordring and his officials as soon as you can."

Vereesa saluted. "Your will be done."

The cathedral in Icecrown Citadel was alive with the cheers and songs of the Vrykul. Sjol'Vess levitated high above the Vrykul, freezing the crystalline phylactery containing part of Sapphira's soul to the ceiling in a large icicle. Floating back down, she stopped at a raised platform, with Veril, Alailin, and Sirol kneeling before her. The other Vrykul filled the great hall, standing or kneeling, singing or shouting their praises.

" **My children, it has been so long. You have grown stronger than I ever would've thought possible...** ", the goddess' voice reverberated from the walls themselves, a bit deeper and raspier than Sapphira's. " **But,** ", she said, taking on an angrier tone, " **you strayed from the path I set for you, breaking your oath. You did not revere me, and let me fade into vague and archaic legend.** "

The songs stopped, and the worshippers bowed their heads deep in regret.

" **I do not hold this against you, my sons and daughters. You have suffered much in my absence. I wish to bestow upon you my greatest gift, now. My mark.** ", she continued, tone softening. She drifted down the aisle that seperated the Vrykul into two sections.

Stopping at one particular warrior, a sandy-haired man, she looked down at him. His eyes were filled with wonder and reverence, staring deep into the sheet of ice that functioned as a veil for her. She placed her hand upon his forehead, and he started to shake. " **Shhhhh, child. Be still.** ", she whispered, stroking a thumb across his brow.

The other Vrykul watched in awe as he went completely still, breath deep and calm. Sjol'Vess began to drag a long claw across the warrior's forehead, forming a bloody rune. " **With my own hand, I give you my mark. With this rune, whoever might harm you will invoke my wrath. You will be filled with my strength, my resolution, and my power of the icy winds.** ", she declared, raising her other arm and rousing the worshippers. The warrior stood, the rune on his forehead now glowing a cobalt blue, and raised his axe.

"For Sjol'Vess!"


	13. Council : Judge, Jury, and Executioner

Tirion Fordring, Highlord Darion Mograine, Archmage Rhonin, Lady Jaina Proudmoore, Risellie, Brann Bronzebeard, Thalarion Sunstrike,Vereesa Windrunner, and regrettably, Garrosh Hellscream, stood around the round table in the Violet Hold that was covered with various maps and pieces. Jaina and Garrosh glared at eachother frequently, and Rhonin found himself wishing that Thrall was present to control the young Hellscream's bloodlust.

"Before we launch any kind of assault on Icecrown Citadel, we have a few issues we need to discuss.", Thalarion spoke, capturing the attention of all who stood around him. Despite his recent hostilities with Rhonin, he had been granted authority over several platoons of Argent Crusaders and Knights of the Ebon Blade. "First off, we have the Deathscreamers to worry about. We haven't any idea how to kill them, or at least render them harmless. It might be possible to save the souls within their hearts, so we need to consider this before we discuss killing them. Secondly, we need to go in depth on the topic of Sjol'Vess. If it is at all possible to exorcise Sjol'Vess's spirit from Sapphira's body without killing the body in the process, we need to find a way how, and how to fuse her soul back together.", Thalarion started, counting off on his fingers.

Risellie was the first to answer. "I've had research teams out in the field documenting and finding all they can on the Deathscreamers. From what they've told me, it IS possible to kill their 'bodies', while leaving the heart unharmed.", she spoke tentatively, winding her stubby fingers through her pink hair. "How do you do this?", Tirion asked, the Ashbringer on his back glowing brightly.

"Well, their heart is well fortified, being chained to their chest and reinforced with a sheet of steel. To kill the Deathscreamer's body, you would have to lodge a weapon beneath the heart and force it out. However, if you wanted to save the soul within the Saronite heart, you would have to do this without damaging the ore.", the gnome explained, staring up at the older paladin.

"I've seen these 'Deathscreamers' out in the field, and removing that heart without restraining the beast would be incredibly difficult, if not impossible. They move like serpents, quickly, sharply, and fluidly. We would also have to put their strength into account, were we to try to restrain them.", Mograine spoke next, voice heavy with the telltale metallic sharpness of a former death knight.

Rhonin and Jaina looked to eachother in thought. Jaina was the first to speak. "The Screamers are obviously more than capable of breaking mere metals, so chains or ropes would be out of the question and useless against them. Restraining one of these beasts would most likely have to involve an extremely powerful stun spell, or some kind magical chain.", the Lady of Theramore said, her voice showing deep thought and consideration.

Rhonin was surprised at Warlord Hellscream's quietness. He supposed that none of the Horde forces had encountered the Deathscreamers, for which he was thankful. Orcs were not adept at obtaining information, lest it involved driving an axe into something's skull.

"You're forgetting that the Deathscreamers surrounding Sjol'Vess wouldn't be the only line of defense. Her worshippers would protect her to their last breath, and it's not unlikely that she's bestowed some kind of power upon them to strengthen them. The Vrykul themselves are likely to be Ymirjar, as any Vargul would be sacrificed and have their soul used for a Screamer.", Vereesa said sharply, laying her bow on the war table.

The others nodded in agreement.

"Vrykul are insignificant, easy to kill. Blessed by a goddess or not, they're still mortal and of flesh and bone. Everyone who stands here has proven themselves to be above them. The Deathscreamers should be our only concern.", Garrosh growled, running his fingers over Gorehowl.

"Perhaps an aerial attack would be in order, if fighting them on the ground would involve restraining them.", Tirion wondered aloud, ignoring the orc's comment on the Vrykul.

"Not possible. The Screamers fly faster than anything I have ever seen, an aerial attack would be in vain and like sending lambs to the slaughter.", the Highlord spoke again.

The council eventually settled upon a plan. Restrain or subdue the Screamer, bring it to the ground, and pry the heart out as swiftly and smoothly as possible.

Their next decision involved Sjol'Vess.

"Our approach at saving Sapphira's body would have to be much like fighting a Deathscreamer. If Sjol'Vess is as powerful as the legends say, she's going to be one hell of a fight. She'd have to be weakened, almost near death, and restrained.", Brann explained, running a large hand through his beard.

"We don't even know where the pieces of her soul are! Why are we wasting time on this? Kill her and be done with it.", Jaina screeched, wringing her hands together. "Watch yourself, Proudmoore.", Thalarion growled threateningly, eyes alive with anger.

"If the Vrykul replicated what they did with Seva so many years ago, then one half of Lady Azurebreeze's soul should be contained in a phylactery, and the other being used in a Deathscreamer.", Risellie said, trying to calm the two. "How would we know which Screamer?", Rhonin asked, intrigued by the small gnome.

"A Screamer's appearance and abilities are dictated by the soul in its heart. Say, if a really strong Tauren's soul was used, then the Screamer would be rather large, and very, very resilient, but its scream would have less effect than that of a mage or warlock. Sapphira's Deathscreamer would almost certainly have violet eyes, like hers, and be much lither and thinner than other Screamers. Its breath attacks and screams, however, would be lethal.", Risellie rattled off, gesturing with her hands. "The phylactery would have to be kept near Sjol'Vess, as well. She wouldn't risk letting a piece of her host's soul fall out of her grasp."

"Removing Sjol'Vess from Sapphira's body though, that is a very daunting task.", Mograine spoke, looking to Tirion Fordring.

"Holy magic would work best at cleansing Sjol'Vess's stain from her body, but, I cannot guarantee that it won't have long term effects. If all goes as planned, and we are able to save Lady Azurebreeze, I will willingly exorcise Sjol'Vess.", Tirion assured, putting a hand on Thalarion's shoulder. The young Blood Knight offered a grateful, but small smile in return.

"All this work, for one puny blood elf.", Garrosh sneered. Thalarion's gaze snapped to the orc, wanting to try and threaten him, but held his tongue. Rhonin, however, did not.

"All this work for one of the most powerful living weapons in this world. All this work for a woman who, despite being so magically powerful, still takes orders from those less talented than she. Garrosh, you best realize who it is we're fighting to regain control of, or you may end up watching this world die by her hand.", Rhonin spat, glaring hard into the young Hellscream's eyes.

The silence was deafening, the tension so thick that everyone found it difficult to breathe. After what seemed like years, Garrosh looked away with a snort.

"Very well, then. Our plans are clear. The siege on Icecrown Citadel begins in a week's time. Ready your armies and ready yourselves, as this will be no easily won battle.", Rhonin announced to all of them. "Arthas' reign ends shortly."


	14. Laying Siege

Tension in Dalaran was thick and people were nervous the night before the march on Icecrown. Over the past week, Thalarion had spent much time with his platoons, training death knights and paladins alike. He had grown fond of a male night elf, Lelwynn. Lelwynn, despite being a death knight and therefore cursed to walk Azeroth forever, lest he was slain, still took joy in life and refused to let his burden bring him down. Thalarion loved listening to Lelwynn gush about a female draenei, Aloria, who was also under Thalarion's command. He couldn't listen to Lelwynn's praises forever though, as it reminded him too much of Sapphira.

Thalarion lay on his bed, thumbing a small square of silken cloth. On the cloth was a moving picture of Sapphira, of her offering a rare smile up at him, violet eyes aglow. On a whim, he had bought the cloth while messing about the Dalaran sewers. The mage he had bought it from called it a "memory cloth". The mage had taken Thalarion's favorite memory and imbued it into the square, that it might never be forgotten.

He sat and watched the memory of Sapphira grinning for hours. Her absence had been weighing down on him heavily, his heart ached for her, his skin moaned for her touch. He often sat and recalled memories of her, little things like how she smelled of hydrangeas and incense, or how her thin fingers felt wrapped around his wrist. He got lost in his own head when he would think of her, of how beautiful he thought her to be.

In truth, Sapphira was not one that would be considered beautiful. Her lips were thin, her cheekbones high and sharp, and her jaw narrow and pointed. Her eyes might have been the only aspect of her considered even slightly pleasant to look upon. They were orbs of orchid and violet, framed by thick black lashes, and the high,long eyebrows present on every elf. Her body wouldn't be considered attractive either. Sapphira hardly ever ate, and her body was frail and bony as a result. Thalarion grimaced at his recollection of the vision he had had.

Sleep eventually did come to him, but not long enough. He was awoken abruptly by the tolling of a bell, summoning all commanders and armies to the Northern landing. With one last look at the memory cloth, a soft kiss to the image of Sapphira, and a moment to steel himself, Thalarion began to march towards what would be the toughest battle he would ever fight.

The various armies marched in formation all the way to Icecrown. Tirion Fordring and the Argent Crusaders took the front, with the Kirin Tor and Jaina in the middle, and Highlord Mograine and his Knights of the Ebon Blade at the rear. The Horde expedition army and Garrosh Hellscream took the right of the Kirin Tor, while Vereesa Windrunner and the Silver Covenant took the left. Thalarion and his soldiers stationed themselves near Tirion.

Icecrown was cold, desolate, and reeked of rotting flesh and salty ice. It brought back the holy knight's memories of the frost wyrm he and his mistress had taken down. They stopped after they had passed through the Wrath Gate, and could faintly see the spire of Icecrown Citadel. Reanimated frost wyrms dotted the skies, while the ground was inhabited by mobs of Scourge. Death knights, abominations, geists... Thalarion gagged at the smell, even from afar.

Tirion Fordring called attention to himself from all the armies, raising the Ashbringer high. "On this day, we forget our feuds, our trespasses, and our differences. This day, Horde and Alliance march as one. Kirin Tor, Knights of the Ebon Blade, and Argent Dawn band together, fighting as one. Let it be known that on this day, the Lich King met his end by the hands of many. For the Light!"

The cheers from the armies were deafening.

"For the Ebon Blade!"

"For the Kirin Tor!"

"For the Alliance!"

"For the Horde! Lok'tar ogar!"

The army charged forward into the plane filled with undead. Shouts of encouragement and bloodlust came from every side. The frost wyrms noticed the activity below them, and began to fly down. Arrows from Shadowhunters and Highborne hunters pierced them, axes from orc warriors and hammers of draenei vindicators finishing them off.

The undead came from all sides. Thalarion busied himself with charging through a crowd of ghouls, slashing each with his greatsword. Lelwynn followed closely behind, shield bashing ghouls for his comrades or beheading any weakened Scourge he saw. Thalarion saw him rush off towards Aloria, who had gotten overwhelmed by several abominations. Kirin Tor battlemages sent beams of fire or ice towards all opponents, some setting off arcane blasts where Scourge were tightly clustered. The battle was going well, the army nearing the gates of Icecrown Citadel.

Then, they heard it. The shrieks they had all been dreading. Hordes of Screamers flooded out of the right side of the Citadel, shooting towards the army like a Goblin missile. "Remember, go for the heart!", Thalarion shouted above the noise, "and if you find one with violet eyes, do not kill it!"

Several Deathscreamers crashed to the ground, sweeping their plated tails across the battlefield. Thankfully, every soldier seemed to be remembering their training and dodged the attacks, more or less. A group of paladins swarmed a particularly nasty looking one with gnarled horns and a large jaw. Each time it moved, they could see muscle pulling taught beneath grey scales.

Aloria launched herself at the Screamer, holy wings of light glowing behind her. She grappled on to the abberation's neck, forcing it to the ground. She stared directly into its glowing eye, larger than her head. The holy light she had invoked had strengthened her, enabling her to subdue the beast with greater ease. "Now!", she ordered, striking her mace against the Saronite plated jaw.

The paladins below her each stuck their sword, greatsword, or the edge of their shield beneath the heart of ore, and pried. The Saronite came loose and flew out with a loud _crack_ , landing in the hand of the draenei, Vindicator Ortuun. Throwing herself off of the Deathscreamer, Aloria tried to block out the sounds of the creature's death. It shrieked and howled, screaming a death lament, before falling limp.

Thalarion himself was helping pry the heart of a smaller, but louder Screamer. It threw all soldiers off of itself, before raising up like a rattler, folding its wings behind it. It let loose a scream louder than anyone could have imagined, bringing every soldier to their knees and their hands to their ears. Thalarion could feel blood seeping out of his tall, Elven ears. Thankfully, the scream didn't seem to affect the ghouls that unholy Knights of the Ebon Blade had summoned. They rushed the guardian, rotting fingers grasping at wing tissue and Saronite plating. It howled and growled, trying to shake the ghouls off.

Lelwynn, having regained some control over himself and recovering from the scream, charged toward the creature. With little difficulty, he wedged his runeblade beneath the soul-carrying heart, pried, and forced the heart out, grabbing it before it fell to the ground. The Screamer carried out the same actions as the one before it did, dying with several shrieks and wails.

The army fought the Deathscreamers until they stopped coming. When the last of them had been slain, every soldier fell to their knees or their back, drenched in sweat and out of breath. From his view on the ground, Thalarion could see Kirin Tor mages gathering up the Screamer hearts, and saw what looked like a black mist rising from the corpses of fallen guardians.

Despite being exhausted, the army dragged themselves to the gates of Icecrown Citadel, where they established their garrison.

The first phase of their assault was complete.


	15. Blood and Ice

The army waited several more days until proceeding to phase two of their siege, forcing their way into the Citadel. Each leader was thankful to see that only a few soldiers had fallen in battle, overwhelmed by Scourge or not quick enough to dodge a Screamer's attack. Mages had been opening portals, day and night, sending the Screamer hearts back to Dalaran. _Risellie and Brann must be having the time of their lives.,_ Thalarion thought with a smirk.

Phase two began with the Argent Dawn breaking into the citadel, using a large battering ram. Paladins had swarmed into the citadel's entrance, clearing out all undead before giving the others the sign that it was secure. Mograine and the Knights of the Ebon Blade set up another garrison at this entrance, bringing in their various smiths and vendors. Once Tirion was certain that they had a good foothold, he took Thalarion aside.

"You and your platoon, go find Sjol'Vess and bring her down. Darion said he would send in a battalion of his Knights after you, as well as a mage, Magister Serena, to help with subduing the Goddess. I am entrusting this only to you, and those under your command. Icecrown Citadel will fall by the rest of our hands.", Tirion ordered, staring down at the crimson haired blood elf. With a salute, a final word of "Light be with you, Commander Sunstrike.", he sent Thalarion off.

Thalarion kept his battalion in tight formation, Aloria and Lelwynn directly behind him, and the others following in rows. They could hear singing echoing throughout the dark and dismal halls, voices thick with the Vrykul accent. They brought down the Vrykul guards stationed in the halls down with ease, attacking them on sight. The long hallway eventually brought them to a set of tall, runed doors. The singing pierced even the thick doors, resonating out into the entrance.

"Are you all prepared?", Thalarion asked quietly, drawing his greatsword. They all nodded in response, and Thalarion pushed his way through the doors into the room.

It was a large cathedral, with an opening leading out to the skies of Icecrown at the end. On each wall, there were stained glass portraits of Sjol'Vess, Seva, and Deathscreamers. Braziers of Scourge-blue fire lined the edges of the walls, casting an eerie glow over the crowd of Vrykul knelt in reverence. At the top of the ceiling hung a large, silver ring, with a thin, lithe Deathscreamer wound around it and hanging upside down like a bat. Thalarion quickly noted that the Screamer was considerably smaller than all others he had seen, and had vibrant purple eyes.

At the front of the room, near the open air entrance, was Sjol'Vess. Thalarion was horrified to see what the Goddess' possession had done to Sapphira's body. Her skin had lightened to an unearthly snow white, pulled taut against prominent bones. Her hair had as well, hanging in braids with silver rings at the end. Over her face was a sheet of aquamarine ice, concealing all but the faint glow of Scourge-blue eyes. Wrapped around her body were transparent, shimmering blue veils and ornate, platinum chains.

The Goddess floated a few feet above the ground, ankles crossed and arms out at her sides, as though she were making some great statement. Above her, in a massive icicle attached to the ceiling, was a crystalline phylactery.

Hearing Thalarion and his platoon enter, the Vrykul shot to their feet, strange blue runes glowing on their foreheads. He saw Sjol'Vess "awaken", shaking her head and taking a shuddering breath.

" **Sunstrike**...", he heard the walls say in a rather low and raspy, but feminine voice. He gratefully noted that the Goddess had not taken on Sapphira's voice.

" **Children, calm yourselves... You will prove your mettle soon enough.** ", the walls said again, as Sjol'Vess beckoned toward Thalarion. Reluctantly, he motioned for his soldiers to stay behind, and he began to walk through the aisle towards Sjol'Vess. The Goddess drifted lower to meet him, but still be considerably above him. She reached out a skeletal hand to touch the Blood Knight, but he pulled away.

" **You reject your lover's touch?** ", the voice flared up.

"You are _not_ Sapphira. You have only taken her body.", He growled in backlash, spitting at her pale feet.

" **It was never her body, Sir Sunstrike. From the moment she was born, I saw her and her destiny to be my vessel. From the moment she took her first breath, she has been mine... But why do I try to convince you? I grow tired of talk.** ", Sjol'Vess's voice echoed as she raised her arms.

" **Children of the cold North, hear me and obey! The time for your reclamation is now! Slaughter them,** _ **all of them**_ **!",** she commanded.

"We'll hold off the Vrykul, Thalarion! You focus on Sjol'Vess!", Lelwynn shouted, blocking a strike from a Ymirjar warrior and proceeding to bellow orders to the rest of the battalion.

Thalarion charged towards the Goddess, greatsword drawn and ready to strike. He missed, but felt the intense cold that she had left behind. The holy knight felt a frozen chain weave itself around his waist, trying to pull him towards Sjol'Vess. Whirling around, he brought his greatsword down, shattering the chain.

He heard Sjol'Vess cry out in pain, then the flutter of Deathscreamer wings. The Deathscreamer he deemed to have half of Sapphira's soul had flown down, ready to scream. " _ **Leave him! He is mine and mine alone!**_ ", Sjol'Vess's voice commanded, sending the Screamer back to its post.

Sjol'Vess had been knocked to the ground from the pain of having one of her chains broken, no longer able to levitate. Thalarion raised his greatsword again, staring at the sheet of ice that covered what was once Sapphira's face. The Goddess outstretched both hands, revealing long ivory talons. They raced towards eachother, claws at the ready and greatsword drawn high.

Thalarion landed another hit on Sjol'Vess's chains, but did not manage to dodge another of her attacks. She swept her talons across the right side of his face, creating deep, bloody gouges. He brought his hand to the wound, covering his gauntlet in crimson lifeblood.

" _ **You forget who you fight with.**_ ", she hissed, raising both hands high above her head, sending a wave of icy blue towards him. The frost covered his sword, creating throbbing blue veins before shattering it. Ignoring the loss of his weapon, he charged again, grabbing Sjol'Vess by the neck and throwing her across the platform. His fingers began to ache after touching her skin.

"Thalarion!", shouted out the familiar voice of Darion Mograine. Darion swept through the mob of Vrykul, finally stopping beside the blood elf. He looked over to where Sjol'Vess knelt on the ground, a piece of her ice-veil falling to ground. She didn't stay down long though, returning to her feet and running towards Mograine. He took a swing at her with his runeblade, but only hit a wall of ice she had summoned. He turned and saw where she and Thalarion were fighting hand to hand, Thalarion grabbing her wrists and stopping another flurry of claw attacks. Seeing an opening, Darion rushed in, and broke the remaining chains covering her.

She let out a scream akin to that of a Deathscreamer, falling to her knees, contorted in pain, "Serena, now!", Thalarion called out, ushering the human magus over. The Vrykul had stopped and gazed with despair as they saw the Goddess fall in defeat. Serena quickly uttered a few words, causing swirling bands of runes to circle around Sjol'Vess's ankles and wrists.

The Vrykul dropped their weapons in surrender, hanging their heads as the mark of Sjol'Vess lost its cobalt glow, turning to runny, scarlet blood.

"You are beaten.", Thalarion said, heavily breathing and ignoring the gushing wounds on his face.

"Commander, shall I open a portal for you to Dalaran?", Magister Serena asked, staring down with disdain at the crumpled form of Sjol'Vess. Thalarion nodded, grabbing Sjol'Vess by the hair, and walking through the image of Dalaran that appeared moments later.


	16. Return

After returning to Dalaran, Thalarion had collapsed out of exhaustion, and Sjol'Vess had been transported to the lower regions of the Violet Hold. Thalarion awoke in his bed at the inn several days later, receiving word from Risellie that Arthas had been defeated and Icecrown Citadel had fallen.

Thalarion strode toward the Violet Hold, remembering Risellie's directions on how to get to Sjol'Vess's cell. As he ventured lower and lower into the prison, it became dark, smelling dank and musty. He finally came to the cell he had been looking for, where Sjol'Vess lay chained to a slab of dark stone.

Rhonin, Darion Mograine, and Tirion Fordring stood around Sjol'Vess, who had gone into a dormant state. Rhonin noticed Thalarion's entrance first, walking over to greet him.

"We wanted to wait until you were conscious to exorcise Sjol'Vess. We can start now, if you are ready.", Rhonin murmured, gesturing towards the phylactery a pyromage had retrieved, and the Screamer heart he later found out Aloria had obtained.

"I'm ready.", Thalarion said nervously, making his way closer to the body of his mistress. The cold wafting off of her was numbing and painful. "Thalarion, I advise you to step back. Sjol'Vess's spirit is a powerful one, there isn't any way to tell how it'll react to my exorcism.", Tirion warned, opening a golden glowing tome.

Mograine took Thalarion's arm and lead him back a few steps, joined by Rhonin a few moments later. Tirion held the open tome in one hand and outstretched a palm over Sjol'Vess. He began chanting in an elder language, calming blue lights flickering from his fingers to Sjol'Vess. They all heard as her breathing sped up, her arms beginning to twitch. Tirion chanted more forcefully and quickly, opening and closing his palm with each word he spoke.

A holy glow began to surround Sjol'Vess, an icy blue vapor beginning to flood off of the ice-mask. Her body twitched and convulsed, her screams beginning piercing the heavy cobblestone walls. It wasn't Sjol'Vess's voice anymore, though. It was Sapphira's.

Tendrils of purple and fuschia poured from the phylactery and the ore heart into the dissipating ice-mask. The cobalt vapor flooding from Sapphira's visible face had turned darker, into a navy blue. " _Thalarion!_ ", she was screaming, voice breaking from pain.

"Stop it, you're killing her!", Thalarion shouted, unable to bear hearing his beloved's voice shattering in agony. The blood knight tried to race over to her body, but Darion Mograine grabbed him by the arms and forced him to his knees. The highlord held firm against Thalarion's struggling. The ice-mask over Sapphira's face was finally gone, as was the darkening vapor. The funnels of purple and fuschia finally drained fully into her face. The rest of Sjol'Vess's garb began to fade, the veils and chains turning to ash.

Tirion closed the book and wiped the sweat that had beaded up on his forehead, stepping away from Sapphira's naked and emaciated body. Mograine released Thalarion, who scrabbled to his feet and sprinted over to his love. "Sapphira...?", he whispered gently, wrapping the corpse-like body in the red cloak he always wore.

Mograine and Rhonin drew closer as Thalarion gathered the woman in his arms, brushing the snow-white hair away from her jagged features. Her eyes opened slowly, but something was wrong.

Weeks passed since Sapphira had been exorcised and was in control of her own body again, but Tirion's warnings of long term effects were not in vain. Despite Sapphira's massive power capacity, Sjol'Vess's possession had still ravaged her body. The ice that had covered her face blinded her in the left eye, causing it to retain the Scourge-blue colour rather than returning to orchid the other. Her skin and hair were permanently a deathly white colour, and her body, even with proper eating, would never look healthy again. Bones still protruded awkwardly and sharply.

Her body temperature would also always be much lower than a normal living being's. Her skin would always be cold to the touch, and frost would form over her like a thin sheet. To keep her fingers working properly and not becoming useless due to the cold, physicians advised her to start up writing or possibly playing an instrument, like the violin.

Her mind was not always there either, there was no doubt in Thalarion's mind about that. When she had first awoken, she had screamed and tried to thrash out of his arms, not knowing who he was. Following advice given by Rhonin, Thalarion had moved her in with him, not trusting her to live by herself when her mind hadn't fully pieced itself together. Some days she wouldn't speak a single word, only staring out the window and dragging her nails down her arms. Other days she wouldn't recognize Thalarion and would ask about her mother.

On rare days, she was herself. She could hold a proper conversation with Thalarion, and would even accept a chaste kiss on the lips or a hand squeeze. These days were very, very limited though, and she would often disappear to a location she refused to disclose. He noted that on her better days, she could be found writing on sheets of piano music, intent on deciphering each note.

Many months passed before Sapphira began to function normally again, her mind almost repaired. Fearing that he would frighten her, if she forgot who he was, he never slept with her. He let her take his bed, and he'd venture out into his room's foyer, often falling asleep on a Sin'dorei style day bed.

That all changed one night. Thalarion had fallen asleep on the day bed after attempting to read a book Sapphira had left laying somewhere. He awoke to a sharp jabbing in his shoulder. "...whuh?", he murmured, voice muddled by sleep. He looked for the source of the poking, finding a set of orchid and azure eyes staring down at him. Moonlight was cascading through a nearby window, casting shadows over pale skin.

"Sapphira...? What're you doing?", he asked, a bit more alert now. "Come to bed with me.", came the reply, in the silvery, lilting voice he had missed so much. "Are you sure?", he questioned, confused. "Of course I'm sure, you dolt.", she snapped.

Her sharp response made Thalarion sure that her mind had finally righted itself. "Okay...lemme get up..", he muttered, heaving himself up off the day bed and taking her thin hand. "Go lay down, I'll be in in a moment.", he said quietly, giving a quick peck to a jagged cheekbone.

He heard her slide into the sheets in the darkness, wrapping them tightly around herself. After tugging his shirt over his head and taking his hair out of its characteristic tail, he joined her. She turned towards him as he gathered her in his arms, burying his head in her pure white hair. She nestled her face near his heart, falling asleep to its steady rhythm.

For once, in her life, her sleep was not plagued by nightmares of Connordia or of Sjol'Vess. It was empty blissfulness.


	17. Intimacy

**WARNING : THIS IS A SMUT CHAPTER. IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO READ SMUT, PLEASE SKIP THIS.**

A month had passed since Sapphira and Thalarion had fallen asleep together. Sapphira's mind was fully healed, and she no longer had episodes of memory loss. The two had started to become close again, bridging the gap that had been created from Sjol'Vess. Sapphira accepted short kisses from Thalarion, but would pull away if he tried to go for more. She would accept his arms around her while she would read, as she found it entertaining to watch him doze off with his arms still firmly grasping her. She even let him help her dye her hair back to its original onyx black.

Most nights, Thalarion went to bed alone. He always awoke tangled with Sapphira, but never fell asleep with her in his arms. She'd always gather up stacks of parchment and disappear at dusk. One night, Thalarion was tired of the secrecy, and even though his mind screamed at him not to, he followed her.

He kept several yards between Sapphira and himself, trying to make himself as stealthy as possible. He was lucky that Sjol'Vess's possession had also deteriorated Sapphira's hearing some, as he was not light on his feet. He followed her through the darkened streets of Dalaran, arriving at what he recognized to be the hall where they had shared a dance. Sapphira produced a key to one of the large, oak doors, and slipped through. Thalarion sprinted to the door and made it through before it closed.

The marble in the hall seemed to glow faintly from the moonlight drifting through the great windows at its sides. He watched as Sapphira ventured over to a corner, seating herself at a shadowy piano. She rummaged through her stack of parchment before finding something she seemed to approve. Within moments of selecting the parchment, music began to flood from the piano throughout the hall. Thalarion closed his eyes and sighed, basking in the graceful lilt of the piano.

The tune she played was slow, melancholy, and reminiscent of a lullaby mixed with a lament. He dared to venture closer, watching intently as her fingers seemed to lose their cold-induced stiffness, melding with the white keys of the piano. She finished with a flourish, her black locks of hair falling around her jagged features.

"That was beautiful.", he spoke, coming up behind her. He heard her gasp and she launched up from her seat, startled. She relaxed a bit realizing it was only her partner, but not much. "Did you follow me here?!", she hissed, eyes flared with anger by the transgression. "I admit, I did. But can you blame me? You disappear for all hours of the night, Sapphira. I worry for you.", he murmured softly, taking one of her hands.

"Don't.", she spat, tugging her hand out of his grip.

Thalarion cocked his head in confusion at her. "Please, tell me if something is wrong.", he pleaded, not knowing what to do with his hands.

She turned away from him, arms folded across her chest. "Sapphira, do you not want this relationship anymore?", he asked. His heart ached at the thought, but he wouldn't try to keep her in any relationship she didn't want any part of.

"I still want it, Thalarion. I just want...more.", she whispered, trying to keep her stalwart composure.

"What do you mean, love?", he prodded, voice soothing and low.

"I want more...touch. More feeling."

"I would give you all that you want, but you always pull away from me."

"Touch frightens me, Thalarion. I thought you knew this.", she choked out, her shoulders shuddering.

It all came flooding back to him. By the Light, he wanted to crack himself upside the head. He'd forgotten that Sapphira still wasn't accustomed to constant physical connection.

"Everytime you touch me, my heart speeds up and my thoughts go foggy. My skin feels like it's moving, singing. I come here at night to try and escape the feeling. It scares me.", she continued, running her hands through her hair.

"But I want to establish intimacy with you, Thalarion. I want you to make me yours, but the feeling of it fills me with dread."

His heart felt like it was going to fall out of his chest. Thalarion had always been perfectly content with the idea of only sharing short kisses and late night spooning with Sapphira. He'd never dreamed of associating her with anything sexual in nature. It just wasn't her. The idea of being so intimate with her tantalized him now, enchanted him.

"I have a proposition for you, then, Sapphira.", he spoke, placing a hand on her shoulder and turning her around.

She stared up into his lime orbs, lost in the misty green. "We can establish intimacy, but we'll go at a slow pace. If the feeling gets overwhelming, you can tell me, and we'll stop. Does this sound alright to you?", he asked, his baritone voice enveloping her like velvet.

She nodded. He took her dainty hand, and the two left the hall.

Thalarion locked the door to his room at the inn once both he and Sapphira were inside. The room was dim, and both elves had to struggle not to trip over a pile of books or a stray piece of weaponry. The paladin led the mage to their bedroom, and took her into his arms. They could hardly see eachother, moonlight providing the only illumination.

He locked his arms underneath hers, and she moved her thin, frail ones to be around his neck. He pressed his lips against hers, softly and slowly. He brushed his along hers, earning a shiver in response. Then, with more force. Their lips fit together like a lock and key, Thalarion's warm flesh dragging over Sapphira's cold. Her hands had moved into his hair, winding around the free hanging scarlet locks.

He went a step further, slipping his tongue along her lower lip. He heard a soft moan in response, and did it again as he ran his thumb along her swanlike neck.

They kissed slowly and passionately, Thalarion eventually sitting on the edge of the bed and taking Sapphira into his lap. Her grip on his shoulders tightened and loosened as his tongue found its way to hers. She tasted like willow tea and ice. She could taste the familiar wine and ambrosia on him, and she languished in it.

She was the first to pull away, lips swollen and red, taking deep, shaky breaths. "Are you alright?", he asked, directing her gaze into his eyes. She nodded, pressing a warm kiss to his lips. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, pulling her closer. He felt her cold breath on his forehead as he trailed passionate kisses and nips up and down her neck, her frostbitten skin frozen against the warmth of his lips. She moaned again, digging her thin nails into his shoulders. He quieted her with another short, fiery kiss.

His hands found their way to the collar of her robe, where he began undoing small black buttons. Each one undone revealed more pure white skin, sparkling faintly in the dim moonlight like snow. He pressed kisses to her collar bones and sharp shoulders, until the robe fell away from her torso. It hung around her waist beautifully.

Her breasts were small but perfect to the red-haired elf. Her ribs still protruded awkwardly, and her waist was still uncomfortably narrow. She pulled back from him and tried to cover herself with her slim arms. "Do you want me to stop?", he asked worriedly, concerned that he had overstepped a boundary or limit. She shook her head "no", and allowed Thalarion to draw her arms away from herself. He kissed each rib, running his long fingers up and down her spine.

She brought his head up to meet hers, and began to kiss him firmly. He felt her bony fingers working the buttons on his undershirt, and soon felt it fall away. He rearranged Sapphira so that she straddled his narrow hips, her nether regions above his hardened member. He felt her squirm against the strange feeling for a moment before settling back into passionate kisses, swipes of the tongue, and wandering hands. She ran her fingers over his pectorals and abs, kneading the thick muscle with her knuckles. She smiled when Thalarion moaned into her shoulder, his thumbs dragging over her breasts.

He stopped and pulled her away, laying her on her back on the bed. He looked at her for reassurance when he went to pull away what was left of her robe. He tugged it off of her, revealing a pair of long, lean legs and thin, black underwear. He knelt between her legs, feeling them wrap around his hips and her ankles cross on his lower back. He brought his arms around her, her arms finding their way down to his pants as he kissed her. When she had loosened them, he kicked them off behind him rather unceremoniously.

He ground his thinly-clothed member against her nether regions, feeling the wetness through the cloth. He heard her moan loudly and bite down on his shoulder. Looking down at her, he asked, "Are you ready for this?"

She nodded, starting to tug at the shorts he still wore.

"Wait.", he said, stopping her. "Are you able to get pregnant still?"

Her eyes were downcast. "No."

He should've figured. Sjol'Vess's presence would have indefinitely ruined Sapphira's chances of having her own children, if she would ever want any.

Thalarion pressed a warm, soft kiss to her lips, and began to shimmy off her thin underwear. She went back to working off his shorts, and soon both were completely naked.

Thalarion thumbed Sapphira's soft clit for a few moments, relishing the way she yelped and moaned. "This is going to hurt a bit.", he whispered, kissing her neck as he finally began to press into her.

He felt her wince and heard her sharp intake of breath. "I'm sorry..", he murmured, kissing her swollen lips and going as far as he could. He started thrusting slowly, not wanting to hurt the frail woman beneath him anymore than he could help. Her fingers had wound into his hair, her tongue finding its way into his mouth. The two moaned with each thrust, Thalarion biting at one of Sapphira's small nipples.

Her back was arched and her head tilted back, mouth open in a moan. " _Thalarion..._ ", she moaned over and over. He went a bit faster and harder, increasing the volume of her mewls. With a tug on his crimson locks, he was put over the edge, groaning into Sapphira's neck and finishing with one, hard thrust.

She fell over the edge, into a fit of ecstasy from his final thrust. She moaned and curled her toes, balling her fists filled with Thalarion's silky hair. The two collapsed into a sweaty, exhausted heap, panting and finding eachother's hands.

Thalarion pulled out of Sapphira and lay next to her, worming his way beneath the cotton sheets. Sapphira followed soon, moving her way towards her lover. He wrapped his arms around her, her head resting on his naked chest. With a kiss to her hair, he fell into a languid slumber. She fell into slumber as well, listening to the slowing rhythm of Thalarion's heart.


End file.
